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NIGHT AT DENVER

When mum finally decided to hang up after what seemed like an hour of her just saying, "Take care," I decided it was finally time to check on the beef stew that had still been cooking. I was getting hungrier by the minute.

The sweet aroma of the stew was enough to tell me the food was ready. I moved from the island to the stove and cautiously lifted the lid of the stove. I had to take a step back, giving more room for the steam to escape rather than have it hit my face.

Experience is the best teacher and I have plenty of stories to tell about my encounter with steam.

The food smelled ready and looked ready, a thick brown-reddish sauce with pieces of orange whiten and green floating on the thick sauce like liquid. Nodules were also ready so we were good to go.

I turned off the cooker and served two plates of nodules and beef stew. Denver faces light up like fucking stars as I approached the island with two steaming plates of food.

"Dinner is served."